


work it out

by MadelaineHeartEyes



Series: love can tell a million stories [2]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadelaineHeartEyes/pseuds/MadelaineHeartEyes
Summary: Whizzer re-enters their lives. Jason is thrilled, Trina feels thrown off-balance, and Mendel is perplexed.Moments post-Baseball Game.





	1. sitting, and watching jason play baseball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer shows up at the baseball game. Trina is not best pleased.

Trina was the first to notice Whizzer. It took Mendel a second to realise why she had frozen - by that time, Marvin had already hissed in their ears.

“ _What’s Whizzer doing here?_ ”

Neither of them looked back at him - Trina’s gaze was locked on the new arrival, her jaw dropping in shock.

“What are you doing here?”

Her words tumbled out, all merging into one, but she didn’t even make an effort to cover them up with forced politeness.

Whizzer looked almost abashed for a moment, before the confident swagger returned. The shift made Trina tense, and Mendel noticed immediately, watching her carefully.

“Jason asked me to come - so I came.”

Mendel could tell Trina wanted to say something in response, but stopped herself. Instead, she turned back to him, leaning in, muttering in his ear.

“Just what I wanted - my dream, really. My ex-husband’s ex-lover at my son’s disastrous baseball game.”

She was chewing on the arm of her sunglasses, and shaking her foot in front of her - Mendel touched a gentle hand to her knee, and she relaxed momentarily. Until Whizzer directed his question at her, with a tap to her shoulder.

“Is he still queer?”

Her head shot up - when she spoke, her voice was small, almost apologetic, but Mendel could heat the underlying exasperation.

“ _I_ don’t know.”

He reached over and took her hand carefully - all eyes were on Whizzer, and he took the opportunity to attempt to console her. Her sunglasses were back on, but they didn’t conceal the deep lines that had formed between her eyebrows - the ones she complained about in the mirror every night. He didn’t mind them, not at all, but it did concern him that she was wrinkling so young.

Trina put a hand over her mouth momentarily, and he leant in to speak softly in her ear.

“Honey - it’s okay. He’s just here to see Jason - that’s nice, isn’t it? It doesn’t mean anything, there’s no need to worry.”

The words didn’t seem to have any effect, but Trina lifted their entwined hands and kissed the back of his. Her posture was slumped, downtrodden - if he understood _why_ she was so bothered, it would have made his heart ache. He couldn’t help being filled with confusion - sure, it couldn’t be _nice_ to see him again, but once the shock wore off it shouldn’t be a big deal. But Trina seemed to be taking it as a personal attack.

Then of course, there was the fuss over seating - where Trina almost got sat on, then trapped between Whizzer’s and his own awkward handshake. Finally, he sat on the bench behind and drew her into his arms. She leant back gratefully, a small smile playing on her lips, but she didn’t loosen the tight grip on his hand, anchoring her to the present.

Then Jason was up to bat, and it was all forgotten… hopefully.


	2. your need for stupid conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mendel is tactless, Trina is upset, and Mendel and Jason have a talk.

Trina’s hand had been tense in his all the way through the game - even when she was cheering for Jason’s (first ever) successful bat, she hadn’t let go of him. When they went their separate ways - Jason to a celebratory meal with his teammates, Whizzer and Marvin feigning different destinations, Charlotte and Cordelia home with amused smirks on their faces - Trina barely made it to the car before beginning to rant… and rant… and rant.

The journey had never felt long to Mendel before, but with every moment filled with her endless talking, they may as well have been in the car for hours. At one point, he placed a gentle hand on her thigh, hoping the comfort would serve as a non-verbal hint to just _cease_ , but she barely seemed to notice it.

( _Mendel_ didn’t notice her agitation growing and growing as she got deeper into her recollections. He was just attempting to tune it all out.)

By the time they got back home, she could barely unlock the door her hands were shaking so much. As she was hanging her coat up, her words blurred into a ringing in his ears, and Mendel collapsed into a seat at the kitchen table, placing his head in his hands.

“Trina - can you allow _one second_ of silence without filling it with your voice?”

He felt guilty the moment the words left his lips, and looked up in time to see the flash of hurt cross her features. Barely a second later, it was as though shutters fell behind her eyes, and suddenly she looked so unlike _his_ Trina that he was almost taken aback. He had only ever seen that look once - in the moments before Marvin cracked his palm against her cheek. Then it dawned on him - the words he had just spoken were all too familiar. “God Trina, I just _despise_ your need for pointless, _stupid_ conversation to fill every moment.” That was what Marvin had said, the thing that made Trina turn her head sharply as if he had struck her already.

Mendel left his seat immediately, moving to her.

“Honey - I’m so sor-“

Before he could finish, she had turned on her heel and left. He heard the slam of a door upstairs, and that broke his heart more than anything.

Trina never slammed doors, too fearful of breaking the plaster.

***

“Where’s Mom?”

Ever perceptive, those were the first words that Jason spoke when he got into the car. Trina always made sure to be there to pick him up from whatever he was doing, and the few times she wasn’t, it was because Mendel had forced her to remain at home due to illness.

He faltered slightly before answering, silently grateful that Jason was preoccupied with doing up his seatbelt.

“We had an… argument. It’s all fine, your mother just didn’t want to come with me.”

The boy furrowed his brow - Mendel was struck by how childlike he seemed for a second. Despite the fact he had matured quickly (maybe too quickly), every now and then it was evident that he was still _so_ young.

“But why didn’t she come? She can drive, she usually comes by herself when you’re working.”

For a moment, Mendel considered saying he didn’t want to bother her. But Jason always saw right through him, and the truth would come out in the end.

“Okay - I said something that upset her, and I haven’t said sorry yet.”

Jason looked at him, thankfully without judgement, but he still felt almost… scrutinised. Something about the boy’s constant impassive look meant Mendel never knew what he was thinking.

“Was it about Dad and Whizzer?”

“Sort of-”

“Was she rambling on?”

Mendel turned in his seat to look at him, incredulous.

“How did you know that?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, and Mendel felt himself reddening.

“She always does that when she’s nervous or stressed.”

Mendel felt a pang in his heart - from guilt, but also because he couldn’t help imagining this little boy two years ago, age ten, calming Trina down from one of her panics when he was the only one there. Mendel still didn’t know how to deal with it now - as soon as she started wringing her hands, eyes wide, he went blank.

When he didn’t respond, Jason carried on speaking.

“I’m guess you told her to shut up, basically. And that’s not a good idea because she just needs to get it out. If you wanted her to stop all you needed to do was give her a hug. I don’t even _like_ hugs and I used to do that.”

The traffic light turned red, and Mendel rested his head against the steering wheel.

“Shit - God, don’t tell your mother I said that. What do I do now?”

He couldn’t believe he was asking advice from a twelve-year-old. Of all of the things he had done in his life, _including_ interrogating a client about their ex-wife’s bedroom habits, and performing house-calls for the sole purpose of flirting with said ex-wife, this was perhaps the lowest of the low.

“Say sorry. Get her flowers - Dad never bought her flowers. Don’t make excuses, don’t get mad if she’s upset… basically, be a better husband than Dad. Her standards are pretty low.”

Jason wasn’t laughing, but Mendel couldn’t help chuckling at his words. The way he stated them - so matter of fact. He stopped abruptly at the look on the boy’s face - solemn and stern, in a way that was almost reminiscent of his father.

“I told you to marry her so she would be happy. So _make her happy_.”

Mendel wanted to say something, but forced himself to close his mouth. He had screwed up.

“Okay - let’s go pick out some flowers.”

***

When they got back, Trina was bustling around in the kitchen. As she leant down to hug Jason, Mendel noticed her eyes were red-rimmed; she must have been crying, and he felt the guilt hit him like a tidal wave all over again. Jason gave him a pointed look before running up the stairs, but she had already turned back to the stove.

“Honey?”

Trina turned, tentatively, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. Despite the red eyes, she was looking at him coldly, and he almost folded under her gaze. The hand wrapped around the flowers behind his back was growing clammy.

“I’m - I’m so sorry for what I said to you. There is no excuse - it was so rude, so thoughtless, and you deserve better.” 

She softened slightly, and he took advantage of that moment, revealing the flowers. She froze, staring at the purple blooms in his hand, and he walked towards her, holding them out.

“ _Violets_.”

She almost whispered it, hands reaching to touch the petals almost reverently.

The first flowers he had brought her, a few dinners into their strange semi-romance. He had noticed them in the centre of the mantelpiece for weeks following, and they lived far longer than he expected under her careful hands.

“I love you, Trina. I am so, _so_ sorry.”

Careful not to crush the flowers between them, she cupped his face gently, pressing their lips together.

“It’s alright. It just reminded me - it just caught me off guard. I’m sorry for going on at you-“

He cut her off with another kiss.

“No, Trina. There is no excuse. You should be able to talk to me, I’m your husband.”

There were tears in her eyes again, and one escaped down her cheek. He brushed it away gently with his free hand, and she reached up one of her hands to place over his.

“I love you.”

***

The flowers regained pride of place on the mantelpiece, and if Trina noticed Jason’s self-satisfied smirk every time he walked into the room, she didn’t mention it.


End file.
